Journal
by VannuroRB
Summary: Diaries are for girls who want to gossip with no consequences. But journals are for those who want to document their life.


God damn FF, totally ruined my format of this story, so I had to change it all over again! I hate when that happens.

You've ruined my style, I hope you're happy!

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Journal~

March the 11th

I did it, I finally did it! I was a little scared at first, I thought I wouldn't be able to leave home, but I did it! It was so exhilarating, I almost wanted to get caught, but I wasn't stupid to try it. He took me to this abandoned house he knew, it's really old, and it looks like it'll fall down. But he said that I would be safe here, and that no one knew it existed in the woods, it means that no one would be able to drag me back home. God I would hate that. My parents would scream at me, not that they don't do that already...they're gone now anyway, don't think about them anymore, just think about where I'm going with him. I hope it's somewhere nice, he said it would always be sunny, maybe by the beach? Hawaii always sounded like a nice place.

He said he had some things to do, told me to stay in this house while he was gone, and that he'd be back in a few hours when he had completed some 'important errands'. I didn't ask what the errands are, it's probably something to do with identification, or something like that. I don't have a passport, so he probably has one for me or something. I don't really want to stay in this house though, the wood is rotten and wet, and there's literally nothing in this house to do. Just me and this diary.

He told me not to bring anything with me, just my cell phone that I only answered for his calls, but I broke that promise. I brought this diary with me, and a pen to write in it. I don't know why, it's not like it's important to me, I just bought it a few days ago. Calling it a diary though makes me seem girly. I'll call it a journal then, guys keep journals right? It'll be the journal of my new life, reminding me of the good times and such, but that sounds just as girly as calling it a diary.

I got a call from him, I was wondering when I was going to hear from him, it's getting really dark outside. He couldn't finish his errands, said that something came up, and that he'd have to pick me up tomorrow when it cooled down. I'm very hungry, but I can wait, I'll just sleep and I'm sure I'll be fine.

March the 12th

I didn't sleep well last night. My stomach was so painful, and the floor was disgusting, I could feel the mold getting into my hair and clothes. I guess I shouldn't have expected things to go so flawlessly, there's going to be a few rough bumps, but I'm sure everything will be fine now. I just have to wait for him to call me again, and we'll be on our way.

It's been hours, and I still haven't heard from him. I hope he's alright the police couldn't have caught him, could they? Oh god, what if they think he's kidnapped me? He could be done for I'm going to have to leave. If not to find out what's taking him so long, then at least to get something to eat, there must be a shop or something nearby. Hopefully it's just me worrying too much, and we'll be on that plane...or, whatever we're taking, I think he said a plane.

What the hell? I just tried the door, but it's stuck. No, I'm sure it's locked. But, he didn't say he was going to lock me in, I didn't even hear him lock it behind me. I've tried forcing it open, but the door is pretty tough, it won't open no matter what. I've also tried the windows, but they're just as stuck as the door, I can't even break the glass-I don't think it's even made out of glass. I'm trapped in here, he has to come back for me then, there's no other way for me to get out. I'll call him, maybe he just forgot or something, I don't know I'm panicking. Shit, why am I writing this down?

Shit! I left my phone on all night, and now it's battery is dead! Shit! Shit! I thought he might've called me back, and now I can't call him at all! I have to find a way out of here, no matter what, this building is old and frail, I can always break my way out of here. There's an upstairs, maybe there's a key or something that I can use, I'll just have to search. So put down the god damn pen already!

I went upstairs, there's only one door, a bedroom I think. But that's locked too. It smells odd, really repulsive, it's probably just the mold or something. Anyway, I searched around the rest of this house, but it's hard to break out of it. I tried kicking some of the walls, hoping that there'd be a loose floorboard, or something that I could break away at. But all I did was just disturb these bugs, I can't get out of here. Please, please, just come get me soon.

March the 13th

I'm really scared now, my hand won't stop shaking with pain and terror. He hasn't come to get me, and I can't find a way out, no matter what I do, what's going to happen to me? There's no food, or water, nothing in this god forsaken house. Am I going to die? My body is hurting already, and I try so hard not to think of food, but that only makes it worse. He just has to come to get me right? What's taking him so fucking long? Is he teasing me? This isn't funny, not at all!

March the 14th

I couldn't sleep at all last night, I'm exhausted, and so hungry. I caught one of the bugs going over the floor, a small little beetle, just doing its usual thing. I'm so hungry, that I considered eating the bug. Just biting its head off and swallowing it down in one go, I didn't even care if it was poisonous. But I didn't, it made me feel sick, so I let it go. How long are people supposed to go without food or water? Weeks? Days? Oh god, I'm planning out how to survive for the long haul, I'm not supposed to be doing that! We were going to run away together, somewhere warm and sunny where no one would find us! Just the two of us, but if I can't make it...There's bound to be something around here, I'm going to check upstairs again, the door doesn't seem as bad as the one down here. Maybe I can knock it open or something, if there's a yearly supply or food and drink, then I'll know I'm dreaming. Well, only one way to find out.

ohgod whatthe fuck is going on here? It was horrible! I got the door open, and it was a bedroom, but now...There's bodies in that room! Real bodies! On the bed, just lying there, like props! The smell wasn't the mold, it was them rotting away, and they were right above me these past days! I think I might be sick again

I don't know what to think they looked so disgusting. One was well rotted away, near skeletal. The other though, it was fresh, and...gooey. It was like someone took most of the skin away, left only the muscles and blood, the blood was everywhere! The sheets, the walls, the floor, nothing was untouched by the large amount of blood! I never want to go in that room again! Why would he leave me here? In a house with those bodies there? Does he know they're there? Maybe he does...No, I can't think like that. He'd never hurt anyone, and he'd never be so sick as to do that to a person! Someone else must use this house, a murder, serial killer, oh god what if they come back? What if they find me here before he does? Will they kill me? Will they do to me, what they did to those other people? Fuck I want out of here. I want to go back home. I change my mind on everything, I didn't want any of this, I don't want to be in a house with DEAD PEOPLE!

I found this cup though...in the room with the...dead people. It's got water in it. It doesn't look clean, and there's only about half a cup left, but if I ration it right, and be very careful, I could live off this for a while.

March the 15th

I feel like I'm going insane. I keep hearing noises, and I freak out, thinking it's one of the corpses upstairs coming to get me. I'm only taking a few sips of water so far, but that's not calming my nerves, it's just reminding me how thirsty and hungry I am. The only thing I can do in this house, is go back upstairs, but I don't want to. I don't want to see those bodies, especially that fleshy one, it makes me vomit. I could always fill out this part of the journal, there's still a couple of lines to go, it's better than doing nothing. Besides, writing in this journal is kind of comforting, like someone who'll listen to whatever I say. No matter what it is.

It's the last day of school today, what lessons would I have? English, oh god. Thank god I'm not doing that right now. Still, I would rather take an English lesson over then staying here I'd also have sports, I miss that for sure. I like sports, it was fun to swim in the pool during the summer, not so much the winter. Crap I'm running out of things to say already. Shit, the stairs creaked again, I thought they were coming after me.

I wonder what time it is. I should have brought a watch with me too, better than hiding this journal, I'd have known if school was out by now. Probably would have told me when people were having dinner too. Crap. Stomach aches like hell, stop thinking of food! Something else.

I feel dirty too. This house doesn't come with a shower, or a bath, not that I'd be surprised. Still, not having a bath for a few days is really disgusting, I can see why people have baths regularly. Can someone honestly stand going without cleaning themselves for a few days? My clothes are sticking to my skin from sweat, and I swear the mold on the floor is growing on my trousers, this is unbearable. If I get out of here, I'm going to have a long bath, that is the first thing I'm going to do...I just put if. Not when, if. Damnit, am I preparing for the worst already? I'm not even hopeful that he's going to collect me now, I just know that I'm done for. Looking back at my previous entries, how could I have thought he was going to come back?

No, I love him, and he loves me too. I don't know what's taking him so long, but I'm sure it's a good enough reason, maybe the police really have arrested him. He'll come back for me, I'm sure of it, and we'll go somewhere far from everything. From parents, home, those bodies. It'll just be the two of us, on a sunny beach somewhere, in a really big home. Just please, come pick me up soon, okay? I'll do anything you say, just don't leave me here alone

March the 16th

I ran out of space too quickly yesterday, I guess I could have filled up this space, and just used the next space and such, but I felt it wasn't right. I barely slept last night, only for a couple of hours. I keep hearing voices, soft whispers of words I can't make out, is someone else here with me? There's no one else here, just me, and those bodies upstairs. Dead bodies can't talk, I know that, but whenever I catch a sound that was like talking, I have to go up those stairs to check. I have to stare at those people, for a good four minutes, before coming back downstairs, and knowing it's not them. At first, I thought I wouldn't be able to do it, go back to that room. The blood and flesh would swirl my stomach, and force me to be sick again, but it wasn't so bad as the first time. I flinched, and I tried to look anywhere but at the bodies, but I wasn't sick at all. And with the other visits to that room, I gained a sort of immunity to it now, it doesn't bother me at all. The smell is off putting for sure, but the sight doesn't disturb me like it did before. I feel kind of relaxed seeing them every now and then to be honest. When I hear a voice, and I go upstairs to check the bodies, it calms me to know they're dead. They can't be talking to me, because dead people don't talk, obviously.

I got agitated, and I heard the voices again, so I went upstairs to check on the bodies. Still dead. I ended up staying a little longer this time, look around them for something, a clue to who they might have been. Any identity they had was stripped away, literally. They didn't look too tall, maybe my height or a little more, but I'm no expert. I moved the head of the skeletal one, there's a large hole in the back of the skull, like something big smashed into it. Hit over the head? Maybe. I didn't check the fleshy one, I may be numb to its sight, but to even think about touching it is gross. Though, it wouldn't be surprising if that body died the same way, something damaging to the back of the skull. I wonder how long it would have taken for them to have died. Instant? Minutes? Hours? Were they in pain before they died? Did they know they were going to die? I wish I could ask them this, this is the only time I want a dead body to talk, so I can ask it ques

Fuck, what's happening to me? I'm writing about two dead people, who have clearly been brutally murdered, and wanting to know if they were in pain?! What the fuck is happening to me?!

March the 17th

I can't stand it. I'm so exhausted tonight, I want to sleep, but those damn voices won't let me sleep. They're persistent, and sneaky, only leaving when I enter the room upstairs. Well, I'll beat the voices to it, I'll take my journal upstairs and I'm staying in that room all night. It smells, and it's incredibly dark, but the voices have completely stopped. Now, if I can just sleep for a little while, an hour wouldn't be so bad.

It's morning...I think. I can't tell, the windows are so smeared in blood, I can't see through them. I'm looking back through my past entries with a clear mind today, and I don't know what to think. I can't be going insane, can I? Insanity takes a long time to develop, right? I'm just...stressed. Yeah, stressed. I'm locked in an abandoned house with two fucking corpses behind me, can I be anything but stressed? The water has all but gone, and I'm still fucking hungry, and I can't even keep my mind straight. If I'm not insane by the end of the day, I'm either going to be damn grateful or fucking pissed!

Where is he? Why hasn't he come to get me yet? This is all I see through this journal, open your FUCKING EYES! He's not coming back, is he? It wasn't even his intention to come back, he's killed these people, and he's going to kill me too! Why am I so STUPID! You knew it was all too good to be true, you KNEW! But I still followed him, and I still believed his fucking lies! Well now look where it's got me, what's he going to do if he comes back? Smash in the back of my head?! The hell I'll let him do that. I'm weak, but if that son of a bitch ever comes back here...I don't know what I'll do, just something! Why aren't I doing something now?! Break something you IDI

March the 18th

Happy birthday to me...happy birthday to me

March the 19th

I've never felt so weak...I can barely keep my hand holding this pen. I'm sorry for any mistakes I'll make, I just...I just want to stop the pain. I feel so angry, so...scared, all in one but I can't even express them anymore. I hurt my leg a couple of days ago, I tried k king in the walls...but my leg got caught. It's not broken, just scratched, but still...I couldn't feel the pain. I couldn't feel the pain of it getting stuck, the skin being torn, or the blood running over it, I'm in that much pain I can't feel any other pain. I'm sorry...I just want to go home now. Please

What's that noise? It's a rumble an engine. A car en e. Someone is here, has someone come

to rescue me? Is this nightmare over? Is it him? I knew he'd come back for me, I kne

it! Just take me ou here, I want to get away from this nightmare now, I'm

even push myself out of this chair. But he'll probably come and get me

no doubt lost a few pounds for him to hol

What the f ck is w ith me? I shouldn't be happy

with two dead people, rem er?! I'm going t

forgiveness, I'm going to kill this bastard as soon as he

door, he's unlocking it, I should go downstairs

as quick as I want it to, and my leg is hurting like a bit

to kill him for sure!

I can hear him coming up the stairs, the stairs are creaking

writing then! There's a click, a loud

It's quiet ohgod

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The rest of the journal is covered in thick, dried blood, and you are unable to read anymore.


End file.
